


Step 1: Drink. Step 2: Make Mistakes.

by bottombeeb



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Drabble, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombeeb/pseuds/bottombeeb
Summary: "Sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwelland how I ruined everything by saying it out loud."Drabble #1 of our Ot3 Drabble Collection





	Step 1: Drink. Step 2: Make Mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandon/gifts).



Alcohol is a funny thing. Sometimes Pete drinks and all he feels is buzzed, and other times he ends up somewhere he can’t remember getting to, laughing about something he can’t remember hearing. Everything is bright and spinning but he’s happy. There’s a loud laugh next to him, and Pete smiles at his friend, feeling a little lost in the concrete stairwell and not minding at all. But that’s when the tequila in his system swings him around, and all of a sudden he’s kissing someone hard and rough, pushing them against a wall and hearing them moan against his mouth. They kiss and kiss and make out, the other guy letting him take the lead until Pete’s sure they’ll both pass out from a lack of oxygen.

With a gasp, Pete pulls away, and when he makes eye contact with his makeout partner, they both suddenly break out into a fit of laughter at absolutely nothing. His laugh echoes against the cold walls, but the other boy’s bounces and bubbles around. There are hands on his face, and their owner tries to pull him in for another kiss, but that’s when reality starts to sneak it’s way through the haze of alcohol and heat between them.

“Wait I gotta… fuck…” Pete manages to vocalize, feeling a bit lightheaded as the recognition of the guy he’s got pinned against the wall dawns on him.

“Y’gotta fuck?” Brendon asks, eyebrow raised and smirk on his lips, “mayb I can help that.”

Fingers tighten in Pete’s hair and pull him closer, almost convincing Pete to give up his fight and give in. But no, there’s something something telling him not to do this. Something important. He shakes his head and Brendon frowns, not realizing that the movement was aimed at Pete’s own thoughts.

“Can’t… shouldn’t…” he responds, sounding as disappointed as Brendon looks. 

“Why? ‘M single, yer single,” Brendon responds, swaying a bit even where he leans against the wall for support.

That’s true. They’re both single. And it’s not like this is going to be anything more than a quick fuck. They’re both hot and just need to get off. Hell that’s why he and Patrick fuck all the time, because- Oh. Right. Patrick. 

“Can’t b’cuz he in loves you,” Pete says simply, without thinking, without processing his words.

Brendon gives him a confused look and Pete feels dizzy again. Woah why is it so much harder to focus when he’s not laughing or making out with a cute guy. A cute guy with a nice ass and flushed cheeks and-

“You’re in love with me?” Brendon asks, looking skeptical, but definitely a bit worried.

Brendon seems to have sobered up at least enough to form a full sentence, but Pete isn’t quite there yet. In fact he thinks he might just be getting more drunk. Or is he just dizzy. Maybe it’s nausea. He can’t tell. Ugh wait can they go back to the laughing feeling great?

“Ya wish,” Pete manages to respond with a grin and a heavy two-eyed blink.

Brendon laughs a bit at that, at first seeming a bit confused still, but then the laughter doesn’t stop. Okay so maybe Brendon hasn’t sobered up because before long, he’s almost doubled over in a fit of intense laughter. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed, and Pete wishes his friend could be here to see this version of the guy he’s head over heels in love with.

“So who?” Brendon asks when he finally has his laughter under control, a giggle still caught in his throat.

Two hands run over Pete’s shoulders and he looks down to see they’re Brendon’s. He’s dizzy and hot and his stomach hurts, but damn that feels nice, and he’s so horny he just wants to get off. Brendon’s so hot too. Honestly one of the hottest guys Pete knows. He’s probably an awesome fucking lay. Pete groans.

“Can’t, he’s my friend,” is all he can manage to say, but before Brendon can add anything, Pete’s opening his loud mouth again, “best friend.”

Even in his drunken state, Pete can see the minute it clicks for Brendon. The confusion fades away, and those cloudy eyes go wide, mouth parted like he wants to speak but can’t find the words. It doesn't click for Pete, what exactly he’s said, what exactly he’s given away. He won’t realize until the morning how he ruined everything by saying it out loud. For now, he just frowns and feels his head ache, barely having even a moment of warning before his stomach lurches. 

Down on his knees, all he can think about is trying to breathe as Brendon silently rubs his back. His stomach clenches in pain as he vomits again. In the morning he’ll think back and think this is punishment, karma for his words. But for now, he just squeezes his eyes shut and curses the alcohol in his system. For now, all he thinks he has to apologize for is causing a scene at the bottom of the stairwell.


End file.
